Quit your addiction
to sneer and complaint
Try a little flaunt
Call for comrades
who bolster your vim
and offer you risk
Corral the crones
Goose the nice nellies
Hunt the bear that hugs
and the raven that quoths
Stay up all night
to devise a new dawn
August 10, 2006
Quit your Addiction – James Broughton
Why then do we not despair ? – Anna Akhmatova
Everything is plundered, betrayed, sold,
Death’s great black wing scrapes the air,
Misery gnaws to the bone.
Why then do we not despair?By day, from the surrounding woods,
cherries blow summer into town;
at night the deep transparent skies
glitter with new galaxies.And the miraculous comes so close
to the ruined, dirty houses –
something not known to anyone at all,
but wild in our breast for centuries.
Since feeling is first – EE Cummings
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the worldmy blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all the flowers. Don’t cry
- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which sayswe are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraphand death i think is no parenthesis
Leisure – William Henry Davies
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
God Pours Light – Hafiz
God
pours light
into every cup,
quenching darkness.The proudly pious
stuff their cups with parchment
and critique the taste of inkwhile God pours light
and the trees lift their limbs
without worry of redemption,
every blossom a chalice.Hafiz, seduce those withered souls
with words that wet their parched lipsas light
pours like rain
into every empty cup
set adrift on the Infinite Ocean.
When They Sleep – Rolf Jacobsen
All people are children when they sleep.
There’s no war in them then.
They open their hands and breathe
in that quiet rhythm heaven has given them.They pucker their lips like small children
and open their hands halfway,
soldiers and statesmen, servants and masters.
The stars stand guard
and a haze veils the sky,
a few hours when no one will do anybody harm.If only we could speak to one another then
when our hearts are half-open flowers.
Words like golden bees
would drift in.
– God, teach me the language of sleep.
But outer Space – Robert Frost
But outer Space,
At least this far,
For all the fuss
Of the populace
Stays more popular
Than populous
When You Come – Maya Angelou
When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words.
Hope – Lisel Mueller
It hovers in dark corners
before the lights are turned on,
it shakes sleep from its eyes
and drops from mushroom gills,
it explodes in the starry heads
of dandelions turned sages,
it sticks to the wings of green angels
that sail from the tops of maples.It sprouts in each occluded eye
of the many-eyed potato,
it lives in each earthworm segment
surviving cruelty,
it is the motion that runs the tail of a dog,
it is the mouth that inflates the lungs
of the child that has just been born.It is the singular gift
we cannot destroy in ourselves,
the argument that refutes death,
the genius that invents the future,
all we know of God.It is the serum which makes us swear
not to betray one another;
it is in this poem, trying to speak.
Love – Czeslaw Milosz
Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills.
A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.
Then he wants to use himself and things
So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
It doesn’t matter whether he knows what he serves:
Who serves best doesn’t always understand.